


camellias on the snow

by authormin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Feels, Consensual Underage Sex, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Pain, Sad Ending, Sad and Beautiful, Time Skips, Underage Smoking, Unhealthy Relationships, Yakuza, actually im being kind of dramatic it's not horribly sad but the vibe is?? ig??, everyone is kind of emotionally constipated, i guess?, implied yakuza since it's not a mafia fic, kenma is the son of someone in the mafia, like two seconds of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24437455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authormin/pseuds/authormin
Summary: it really wasn't kuroo's fault that he couldn't back away.one looks at art. observes it. studies it.kuroo tetsurou cannot be blamed.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	camellias on the snow

**Author's Note:**

> first haikyuu fic! i just wanted to write more angst tbh and i wanted new characters 
> 
> just a little warning that the proper japanese honorifics will not be used. ive researched them to try and use them properly, but i think it would just be easier to not inlcude them and risk making a mistake. im still not confident where each honorific is used, so apologies for that.

kuroo thinks about his first meeting with kenma a lot. 

it's something worth remembering, he thinks, but really? 

he wishes he could carve the memory out of his head and bury it under the weight of a million dead flowers. 

it's nothing beautiful. 

he had just finished wednesday after-school practice and while changing out of his sweat-ridden uniform, he had realized that his math homework book was nowhere to be seen. yaku had told him to hurry up and fetch it from the classroom so they could head home together (a tradition born out of convenience and false closeness), to which kuroo responded by nodding and dashing out of the locker rooms, sprinting his way up the school corridors. the hallways had been eerily empty and softly lit by the dust sunlight filtering in through the windows, orange and bright and hot against his eyelids. 

after the second flight of stairs, kuroo had panted to a stop in front of his classroom, ready to rush in to grab his stuff and go meet yaku by the school's entrance, when muffled voices stopped him from whipping the door open. 

kuroo had gotten close enough to the door to peek inside, curious as to why anyone was still in the building despite the fact that wednesday after-school hours were reserved for sports students (and the mathletes who had claim over the cafeteria). 

he had looked. 

if kuroo could turn back time, he would never do it. he would forget the homework. he would tell himself to rush it in the morning before the first bell rang, or ask yaku to send him the answers. 

but kuroo can't turn back time and he can't forget. he can only replay the moment inside his head over and over and over and _over_ again until every single detail of that scene is burned into his brain, so vividly, so _clearly_ , even with his eyes closed and hands squeezed over his ears, kuroo can feel the scene etched into his mind. 

kozume kenma. 

kozume kenma. 

kozume kenma. 

kozume kenma had been pressed up against a desk, fingers curled around the tabletop in a desperate grip to keep himself upright. hair strewn and messy like a broken halo around his head, blonde and straight and long. nothing but creamy, naked skin that stretched over a too-thin body, like his bones were trying to erupt from his own self. kuroo had looked into the room just as kenma was thrown forward further on the desk, the body behind him pushed up greedily behind him, quick and loud and dirty and kozume kenma had thrown his head up, reached his arms out, and his shoulders arched out like two wings ready to unfurl and kuroo had _seen_ him, and kozume kenma knew that kuroo saw him, and kozume kenma _smiled_ , thin and malicious and his hazel eyes had _glowed_ under the red sun bleeding into the room from the window behind them. 

kuroo could not breathe. 

kuroo could not budge. 

absolutely nothing and everything kept him frozen in place. 

the dying sunlight pouring in had made kozume kenma's skin fade into a tinted, tawny shade of peach like the blush of an angel smiling and kuroo could not be blamed. 

kuroo wasn't supposed to see anything. 

but kenma was beautiful, all blooming skies and soft poison. 

how could he have turned away?

-

-

_present day_

-

-

"kenma. you hungry?"

kuroo is busy putting his clothes back on, waiting for the sound of sheets ruffling together to indicate that kenma's heard him. nothing comes. he's about to ask again when there's the sound of metal clicking softly behind him. kuroo turns around with a sigh. 

"hey, don't give me that look," kenma sighs through his teeth and watches with a certain kind of fixation as the end of his cigarette lights up. "i'm bored."

"that doesn't mean you should smoke. take up a hobby or something."

"like?"

"i don't know. paint something. or learn how to cook. or do your laundry."

"those are all chores."

"painting isn't."

"does it look like i can fucking paint, kuroo?"

"fine. whatever. open the window, at least. i hate the smell."

it clings to everything and kuroo hates it because kenma always smells like smoke and kuroo doesn't _like_ it. he doesn't want to remember kenma by the scent of a cigarette. (he's not stupid - this relationship isn't going to last forever and kuroo's going to have to act like it never happened one day. kenma will just be a fleeting memory and kuroo won't have the right to feel sad because he _did this to himself_.)

"do it for me?"

kuroo pulls on the last of his clothes on and turns around to look at kenma. he's strewn himself lazily across kuroo's bed, white bed sheets tangled in between his legs, bare chest heaving with small puffs. kenma's eyes are hazy and he looks pretty much exactly what a post-fucked guy would look like. a slight flush runs down his thin cheeks and down to kiss the top of his collarbones and kuroo has to avert his eyes because there's that weird, stomach-tingling sensation in his guts again. 

"i hate you." but kuroo still walks to the back wall of his room and grunts as he pulls the window open, sighing immediately at the feeling of fresh air hitting his face. a bird chirps somewhere in the distance, and kenma snorts like it's a personal offense. 

"come back to bed."

"no. you're just gonna fall asleep on me again."

"why, do you want to _talk_ or something?" kenma flicks the butt of his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray that's been placed on kuroo's nightstand (kenma had brought his own and kuroo couldn't tell him that he hated the presence of something kenma owned in his own room). 

"no. i'm going down to get food."

"okay," kenma "get me water."

"shut up. change into clothes already."

kenma narrows his eyes. he lets the blanket ride further down his body and gives kuroo a spiteful grin.

kuroo heads downstairs. 

-

-

kuroo's first interaction with kenma that involved clothes and talking on both of their behalves had taken place two days after kuroo had accidentally seen the ugliest, and simultaneously, the prettiest scene in his life. kenma was waiting outside of the locker rooms, getting a couple of strange looks by the other members of the volleyball team that had trickled out earlier. kuroo had felt his heart drop to his feet, wondering if he was back to exact some kind of revenge for being such an (accidental) pervert. not that he could really blame him. normal people don't really stare into classrooms where two dudes are going at it. 

"hey," kenma had said, hands loosely clasped behind his back and hair tied gently in a low ponytail. kuroo had felt like he had to hold his breath just looking at him. "i need to talk to you, kuroo-san."

"huh?"

"i asked around for your name," kenma had smiled softly before his eyes narrowed into thin lines, angry and full of quiet wrath. "i just had to tell you. don't fuck around and think you'll get away with spreading any shitty rumors. got it?"

"i wasn't planning on it."

"i'm not protecting anyone, by the way. he was just curious. i'm good at this kind of stuff," kenma had kept talking, just as kuroo was about to leave. "i don't want you to think i'm being selfless by telling you to keep quiet. that's all."

"i never thought you were being selfless."

"alright. that's all."

"what's your name?"

"why do you need to know?"

"you know mine. it's only fair."

"i'll tell you if you sleep with me."

"huh? why would i want that?"

"i only like to hear my name while i'm being fucked."

"your language is vulgar."

"is that a yes?"

"it feels forced."

"on who's part? i don't feel forced at all. do you?"

"i don't know. well, i guess i don't."

"why, is it because i'm ugly?"

"no, that's not really the point."

"so i'm pretty?"

"very."

kenma had dragged kuroo into an abandoned bathroom on the third floor (failed renovations) and the two of them had melted into each other for the first time. 

kuroo regrets it; he regrets letting kenma having his way so easily, kuroo should have been smarter, should have been stronger, should have, should have, should have. 

kuroo regrets it. 

every. waking. moment.

-

-

"you're graduating soon," kenma says, lips pressed sloppily against kuroo's own, hands nudging insistently against kuroo's chest, his waist, hips, everywhere he can get a reach on. "i'll miss you."

"really?" the words leave some kind of pang in kuroo's chest. it's not that he feels particularly sad about leaving in a couple of months, but there's a strange feeling of emptiness in his chest whenever he thinks about _kenma_ and leaving him behind. it pisses him off that nothing in his life is _constant_ , kenma included. "i hadn't noticed."

"you're so _shit_ at being sarcastic. it doesn't _feel_ like you're being snarky."

"i'll definitely work on it? i guess?" kuroo finds purchase on the dip of kenma's back, right on top of the elastic band of his boxers. "but back to the other thing. _you're_ going to miss _me_?"

kenma pulls back a bit, far enough to look at kuroo's face with a twisted up expression. "why, do you think i'd lie about something like that?"

"i just didn't think you could miss me."

"we're close," kenma pauses. he seems to realize his mistake. "well, i mean. i guess we were never friends but still. we've done more than most."

"you don't think of me as a friend?" kuroo fake-pouts, but the sting he feels is real. if someone were to hypothetically ask him whether or not kenma was his friend, he'd have to respond with a noncommittal shrug and one of his famous, _i know you want an answer but you're not going to get one_ smiles. he'd probably want to answer _yes_ , though. 

"ugh. fuck off. i hate when you get like this."

"get like what?"

kenma purses his lips together and kuroo holds himself back from pressing a kiss onto kenma's temple. the annoyed wrinkles that line his face are looking especially cute today. "i hate when you question what we are. who cares? we have sex. and you take care of me."

"that's what friends are, kenma." kuroo pulls in kenma a bit closer into him. "well, maybe not the sleeping-together part."

"but i don't take care of you."

kuroo wonders whether the softness of kenma's voice is him feeling a bit sorry. 

"i don't mind."

"whatever. ugh. i didn't come over to talk about my feelings. c'mon," kenma sighs deeply before grinding himself slowly down onto kuroo's lap, gentle and all too rough at the same time. kuroo sucks in a sharp breath. "you know what to do."

kuroo returns the sigh but pulls in the smaller body on top of him closer, into him, and tries to ignore the nagging feeling that tickles the edge of his brain. 

_i want you to miss me._

_i want you to want me._

-

-

school's always annoying, but today is worse, somehow. kuroo thinks it's because of the fact that the third years are starting to meet with the counselors to discuss post-high school plans. hearing the kids at the beginning of the alphabet come in from their meetings complaining about the work they need to do makes kuroo lose his mind. he has no interest in thinking about his future. 

all he can do is stare vindictively at his chemistry book, trying to focus on taking notes. but it's just a formality - he can't stop _thinking_. 

his father wants him to go down the classic business-or-doctor field, and kuroo's probably going to have to. after the death of his mother two years ago, the reality of having to everything by himself is too tangible for comfort. it doesn't help that his father is absent most of the time, either stuck at work or flitting off on business trips that take much longer than what kuroo thinks is necessary. (seriously. nobody just spends a month in europe trying to meet with different company presidents. that's just not a thing.)

"kuroo, you want to head out for food? yamada-sensei said we can have a break since so many kids are out for meetings."

kuroo lifts his head up from where he's been staring blankly at his notebook and looks right into yaku's inquiring eyes. "yeah. a break sounds good."

"you look stressed. is it the meetings?" yaku waits for kuroo to get up before they head out of the classroom. "i'm kind of scared, too. i still haven't decided on a major, since i don't want to commit to english. i don't know. whatever."

"you'd make a good teacher, yaku."

"really?" yaku lights up into a bright smile before laughing sheepishly. "thanks. i think you're going to do good in whatever you choose, too. you could be a doctor, kuroo. or a CEO. i can see that."

kuroo lets out a chuckle. yaku seems especially bright today. "sure. doctor. sounds good. i'll give you free treatments for your knee and everything."

"wow. that's the whole nine yards."

"of course."

"oh, look, the second years are taking the midterms right now." yaku nudges kuroo and they look into the window of a passing classroom. it's kenma's class. because of _course_ it is. "jeez. at least we still have a month before ours."

kenma sits in the front row, easy to spot with his half-bleached hair. he sticks out like a sore thumb, which kuroo laughs to himself about because the sophomore is never keen on drawing attention. 

"yeah. good thing we have time."

"you're still hanging out with kenma?"

"eh. i guess. we're chill."

"you can use the word _friend_ , you know?"

"we aren't."

"bullshit."

"we aren't."

yaku sighs. "okay. i won't press. let's go already, though. i want to get the milk bread before it goes out."

"sure."

-

-

dinner is always boring for kuroo, since if kenma doesn't stay over to ~~nibble at a piece of bread with the ferocity of a baby bird~~ eat, he's usually by himself. today's one of the rare nights that his dad is home, though. there's no sense of excitement at the prospect of dining with his dad after a couple weeks of not being able to see each other. if anything, he's kind of annoyed since he has to prepare an actual meal this time, instead of getting away with frying a bowl of rice with eggs and ham. today's menu is grilled mackerel, some pickled radish, side vegetable dishes, and rice. kuroo rolls his eyes at himself. he doesn't get why he feels the need to put in so much effort.

"thank you for making dinner, tetsurou."

kuroo has to keep himself from jumping at the sudden intrusion. he didn't even hear his dad enter the dining room. "it's no big deal."

kuroo turns around to face his dad, bringing the two bowls of rice in his hands over to the table. he sets them down, and takes his seat across his dad. 

"how's school going? i got an e-mail from the principal that third years are starting counselor meetings."

"i haven't gone in yet, but i'm up soon."

"you take care of your grades, so i trust that you're prepared to enter university?"

"of course."

"major?"

"math."

kuroo doesn't know if he's going to choose math. 

"hmm. alright," kuroo's dad takes a bite of the grilled mackerel before eyeing something at the edge of the table. "what's that? a bio notebook? you don't take bio."

"oh, um. kenma came over. he must've forgotten it. shoot. i'll give it to him tomorrow."

kuroo looks away from the textbook and finds that his dad is looking at him with slight disdain. 

"you're still hanging out with that boy?"

"i don't know. sometimes."

"you know the rumors surrounding his upbringing."

"it's not proven."

" _tetsurou_." 

"dad."

"he's _yakuza_."

"no, he isn't."

"he might not be, but his family is," chopsticks clatter down to the tabletop as they slip from his dad's hands. "i thought we've been over this. curiosity is different than -"

"i don't hang out with him because i'm curious. i've never asked. he doesn't do anything bad. stop it."

"it's dangerous, tetsurou. whether it's true or not, the rumor still exists. please consider your image."

"my image is perfectly fine," kuroo snaps. he doesn't know why he's getting so defensive over kenma. he's not even _here_. "i'm done eating. leave the dishes in the sink so i can wash them. i know how busy you are, with your work and all."

"tet-"

"goodnight. i have some homework to get to."

-

-

kenma, kuroo had quickly found out, is indeed yakuza. 

well, maybe not kenma _directly_ , but his parents are involved. or maybe it's just his his dad. doesn't really matter.

kuroo had found out when kenma had asked him whether or not he would still look nice with a back tattoo.   
  
  


"why would you want a tattoo, kenma. you know the implications behind that. especially if it's big enough to cover your back."

"because? i'll probably have to one day?"

"what? why? who would make you get one?"

"uh, my dad?"

"what?"

"wait, you seriously don't know?"

"know what, kenma?"

"um, my family. i kind of thought you knew. there's a lot of rumors."

"oh. maybe it's because we're in different years. what's up with your family?"

"kuroo."

"hmm?"

"i'm the heir to a mafia empire."

"sure."

"kuroo. it's not a joke."

"ha - oh. wait, really? like, yakuza? like a real gang?"

"yeah. i don't want to be a part of it, though. i mean, i don't know what they do. i'm just saying that it's what my family does."

"okay."

"okay? that's it?"

"i mean, i won't spread rumors. if that's what you wanted to hear. it's none of my business."

"that's not what i meant. you're okay with me?"

"is there any reason for why i shouldn't be?"

"literally everything i just said, kuroo."

"oh. ha. you're right. well, i mean. i don't care. it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you."

"really?"

"kenma. have you ever done anything illegal?"

"smoking cigarettes."

"that's it?'

"yeah."

"then whatever. don't worry about it. you don't owe me an explanation. or anyone else."

and that had been that. 

-

-

there are two rules that kenma has for anyone who has sex with him. 

one: no romantic feelings allowed. 

two: make it _hurt_.

kuroo doesn't really like either of the two. it's not that he has plans to declare his love for kenma or anything (he's still not really sure _what_ it is that he feels for kenma, to be honest) but it'd be nice to have the option. the second rule kind of annoys kuroo, too, because he's not keen on causing kenma pain. but he kind of gets why kenma likes it. it's satisfying to see kenma's ass flush red with the outline of his hand imprinted onto creamy skin, or the scratches kenma leaves behind on kuroo's back, or the hickies they leave behind on each other - 

it's all pretty. 

kuroo's straddling kenma's thin frame right now, with kenma's wrists tied up over his head and legs spread out like a sin. kuroo uses a finger to trace a thin line down kenma's chest, over the curve of his ribs, down the line of his hips, kenma shudders into kuroo's hand like crazy with the small lines of faint ab muscles training under the tension of his own pleasure. 

"are you wrists okay?"

kenma's tongue flickers out to run over his lips before he nods. "yeah. perfect." the red blindfold over his eyes is starting to grow damp with tears and kuroo wants to kiss the wet spots. 

"good."

"c'mon, kuroo, do something, _please_ ," kenma's breath is rough and harsh and kuroo smiles even though kenma can't see. " _please_."

"of course."

-

-

kuroo's last fall semester comes and goes in a flash of tests and teacher conferences and counselor meetings and phone calls with his dad and he doesn't touch kenma nearly as much as he wants to or _needs_ to. 

kenma still hangs out in kuroo's room, though, not pushing for sex unless kuroo initiates something. 

it's stress relief for the both of them at this point. 

kuroo feels particularly shitty one friday night, annoyed with the amount of homework piled up on his desk (but really, it's the phone call with his dad from earlier that still lingers in his head) and kuroo wants to just throw himself out the window, maybe. it's funny because his room is on the first floor. he'd get a pretty sick bruise on his back at the worst and a sprained wrist and best. kenma's on the bed, tapping away into his video game console. 

"kuroo."

"yeah?"

"you look pissed."

"that's probably because i am."

"your dad?"

"yup."

"i can listen, if you want," kuroo turns around at this. kenma hardly tries to hold conversation besides what's necessary. kenma glares. "don't look at me like that. it's annoying to see you brood over nothing. fucker."

"i didn't say anything!" kuroo throws up his hands in defense of himself, but cracks a smile when kenma drops the console besides him. "it's just college stuff again. nothing crazy."

"what, he doesn't like your major or something?"

"no," kuroo's careful to watch kenma's reaction to his next words. "he doesn't like how far i'm going to go."

kenma's general expression doesn't really change, but his eye twitches like there's an annoying fly somewhere in the room he can't see. "you're, um. planning on going far?"

"i don't know. three hours isn't that bad, i guess. could be worse."

"why do you want to go so far?"

"just. i need to get out of here," kuroo, for some sadistic reason, enjoys the brows on kenma's face drawing together in concern. well, maybe it's concern. kenma doesn't really have what one would call an _expressible face_. "i feel suffocated."

"but it's tokyo."

"i feel useless, kenma. i hate it. i need to get away from my dad. i need to get away from -"

kuroo stops himself. 

he was just about to say _you_. 

he wants to get away from kenma?

kuroo hadn't even realized until now. 

why? 

he likes kenma. 

"damn. i guess i'll just have to find someone new, then."

kuroo bites back a giggle. "what, you were planning on meeting with me even after i left?"

kenma openly glares at this response, mouth twisted downwards into an ugly frown. "yeah, so what? i didn't think you'd go far enough that i couldn't keep seeing you."

"oh."

"what do you mean, _oh_?" kenma snaps. 

"it's just that, i thought you'd just want to get rid of me once i left. i don't know."

"jeez, sorry for wanting to see you. i'm fucking horrible."

"shut up. i didn't mean it like that."

"fuck off."

kenma huffs and throws himself down, turning away so kuroo is looking at kenma's back. kuroo smiles. 

so the feeling of _like_ is mutal, huh?

kuroo gets up from his seat at his desk and makes his way to the bed. 

"i don't want to do it today," kenma says, voice smaller than usual.

"me, neither."

"so you're sick of me already?"

kuroo decides it's okay to laugh at this. "kenma, what's with you today? i just want to cuddle because you seem tired."

kenma flips himself around to face kuroo. "i'm not. want me to show you?"

"no, i lied. it's because i'm tired. numbers are floating all over my head right now, you know."

"hmph."

"what's there to _hmph_ at?"

"nothing," kenma shoves his head into the crook of kuroo's arm and violently flings his leg around kuroo's waist. "just shut up and cuddle with me already."

kuroo smiles. "yup."

-

-

sometimes, after kenma leaves, kuroo stares into the mirror of his bathroom and looks at himself because he thinks kenma must be crazy for wanting someone like him. there's no rule that they're exclusive to each other, but they make it abundantly clear to one another that there are no other partners in the picture. 

kuroo traces his eye bags with his ring ringer today, running the pad of his index finger in the direction of the puffy, purple-blue shadows that hang off his eyes. 

ugly. 

kuroo follows the path until he reaches the top of his cheekbones, before dragging his finger down to reach his lips. 

ugly. 

kuroo looks into the mirror until the mess of black hair that sits on top of his head looks like it's about to grow wings and fly away. 

ugly. 

kuroo closes his eyes and imagines kenma in front of him, all white skin and soft hair and cute nails and sharp cheeks and pretty eyes and kuroo can't help but think - 

ugly. 

kuroo is ugly. because he can't admit what he wants, not even to himself. 

he's not even sure what he wants, to be fair. does he want kenma? he's kind of already got him. maybe kuroo wants to be official. but then again, there's no burning desire inside of himself to call kenma is boyfriend. maybe all he really wants is to monopolize him. 

make kenma need him. 

not just for sex. 

not just for someone to talk to. 

kuroo feels his throat dry up when it hits him, what he really wants. 

he wants kenma to _break._

under him.

that would be best, if kenma just broke. if kenma just lost himself in kuroo and couldn't do anything without kuroo and depended on kuroo and _had_ to have kuroo by his side to feel like he was living. 

kuroo stares at himself in the mirror again and imagines kenma standing in front of him, sad expression and drooping shoulders and a figurative collar knotted around his untouched throat. 

kuroo smiles sadly at himself. 

he's not ugly. 

he's digusting. 

kuroo wants to break kenma. 

-

-

kuroo doesn't really know what to do right now. 

kenma stands in front of him, in the doorway of kuroo's house three in the morning of a weekend, looking like absolute shit. 

kenma's shirt is torn at the front, exposing a collarbone that has a single bloody cut etched into his skin, and one of the sleeves is close to falling off. his face is bruised and there's even more blood by the corner of his mouth. kenma also stands in an awkward way, leaning all too much to the left. 

"kenma," kuroo finally breathes out. "what the fuck happened?"

"my dad," kenma responds calmly. "can i come in? it hurts."

kuroo feels his jaw clench and he sweeps kenma into a bridal carry before taking large strides towards his bedroom. kenma's shaking. 

"kenma. do you need a hospital?"

"no. i don't think anything broke. just some cuts and bruises."

kuroo places kenma on his bed before he runs off into the bathroom for the first aid kid lodged somewhere on the shelf. he finds it quickly, but knocks down at least a million things in the process. 

kenma's still sitting still, rubbing his jaw carefully as he watches kuroo rip open a bunch of gauze pads. 

"kenma."

"yeah?"

"what. happened."

"i told you. my dad. he got pissed because i said i didn't want to do his work."

kuroo's hands tremble while he works on cleaning the open cuts he can see. 

this is the first break. 

his first opening. 

kuroo wants to shut himself up. 

he just needs to push a bit.   
  


"you shouldn't have to if you don't want to."

"not that simple."

kuroo presses an alcohol-soaked gauze pad into a cut on kenma's forearm. kenma flinches. "it is. you need to get out of there if you don't want to listen to your dad. he shouldn't be able to do that to you."

"kuroo. do you think the mafia runs on logic and reason? i'll get murdered if i try this again."

"then run away or something. you're allowed to want to get out of there."

kenma finally shows the first crack. he bites his lip and kuroo immediately reaches out to push his thumb against kenma's teeth. his lip is bleeding; it isn't smart to bite it. "why are you so nice to me, kuroo?"

kuroo sucks in a breath. 

that's the second opening. "you're worth being nice to."

"it hurts."

kuroo's kneeled on the floor in front of kenma, who's still sitting on the egdge of the bed with mottled bruises over the skin of his legs. kuroo dips his head down to leave a gentle kiss on top of a particularly large bruise on top of his thigh. kenma lets out a quiet moan of pain. 

"i'll help you get better, kenma," kuroo keeps his voice quiet. he's never been more thankful for his dad being out. "it won't hurt."

"hurts." 

kenma's eyes are watery. 

kuroo just needs to push a _little bit more_. "where?"

"everywhere. i don't know -" kenma's voice cracks and his hand flies out to find purchase on kuroo's shoulder. his fingernails dig into kuroo like little knives but kuroo doesn't move. "-kuroo."

"kenma," another kiss gets placed on top of another bruise that kuroo finds. "what do you want me to do, kenma?"

"i don't know."

"kenma."

"it hurts."

"yeah. i know."

"you're holding my wrist too tight, kuroo."

kuroo's glance flies down to kenma's arm, and just like he said, kuroo's gripping too tightly. "fuck. i'm sorry."

"can you help me with my collarbone? it hurts the most."

"yeah. hold your head up."

kenma listens and kuroo silently washes over every cut on kenma's body, slowly and gently and sometimes he pushes down harder than he has to and kenma is crying silently, eyes closed and facing upwards and kuroo wipes away the trail of tears that falls down his neck and wets his ripped up shirt and kuroo just kisses the stray ones away but kenma keeps crying, keeps crying, keeps crying. 

kuroo chews on the inside of his cheek. 

kenma's so pretty like this. 

shattered. 

or at least, getting there.

something hurts. 

-

-

"so. you're leaving for good now, huh?"

"what do you mean?" kuroo puts his pen down and runs a hand through his hair, watching kenma as he crosses the living room and finds a seat on the couch. kuroo's still stationed at the kitchen table, papers placed all over the wood and laptop wide open. 

"you're opening applications. which means you're going to accept one of them. which means you're leaving."

"nothing's finalized. i'm still deciding."

"sure," kenma stretches his legs out and pulls out his game console. the little blip of it turning on rings in kuroo's ears. "anything stand out to you?"

"there's two universities i'm looking at. one is four hours away. the other is twenty minutes."

kenma doesn't react. or at least, not in the way kuroo wants him to. 

"that's cool."

"sure is," kuroo picks up a random packet and acts like he's reading through whatever's scrawled on the page. "do you want me to choose a specific one?"

kenma stabs one of the buttons particularly hard and shrugs. "not my decision."

"right," kuroo says simply. he tosses the packet down and it lands in a flurry of white sheets. "kenma. i wanna do it right now."

"do what?"

"sex."

"oh. okay. can we go to your room?"

"yeah."

"kenma."

"hmm?" kenma gets up from the couch and waits for kuroo to stand. kuroo leads the way to his room with heavy steps. 

"i want to break the rules today."

"what rule- _hey_."

"i don't want to hurt you today. is that okay?" kuroo opens the door to his room and waits for kenma to head inside before closing it behind him. "i want to do it slowly. and carefully. nothing painful."

"fuck, you had me scared for a second there, kuroo," kenma slips off his shirt. "fine. we can do it normal today."

kuroo licks his lips and he's sure it must look kind of predatory. "and the other one."

kenma freezes in the middle of unbuttoning his pants. "what?"

"be with me, kenma. more than a friend. or sex friends. or, whatever it is that you think we are. be mine. just. be mine."

"what the fuck are you talking about, kuroo? stop it."

_"kenma,"_ kuroo whispers, moving in closer to cage kenma against the wall right besides the bed. "please. _please_ , what is it that i don't have? what is it that you want or need that i don't have? i can do it. i can change. i can. i will. just be _mine_."

kenma starts to shiver a bit, with kuroo's arms locking him into place. "kuroo, this isn't fun. stop it."

kuroo bows his head so he can reach kenma's naked shoulder and licks an open-mouthed kiss onto his skin. it tastes faintly like vanilla and kuroo nudges his knee in between kenma's legs. "i'm not kidding. i want you to be mine. i'll stay."

"i can't. you can't. stop saying that- ah, _oh_ my _g-god_ ," kenma gasps when kuroo pushes more insistently into kenma, putting his hands everywhere he can touch, hands roaming over kenma's soft skin over and over and over and he can feel the quickened heartbeat of kenma's heart underneath his fingertips and kuroo can't stop himself, can't, can't, _can't_ \- 

"kenma. i don't know if this is love," kuroo finally pulls his face away from kenma's shoulder and uses a hand to hold kenma's chin in place so they're forced to look at each other. "i really don't know. but don't you think it's something similar? something close? something like it? it can just be our kind of love. i'll take care of you."

"shut up. stop. _stop,_ " kenma's crying again. kuroo wonders why. he hasn't said anything sad. "stop it, kuroo. you know i can't."

"why not, kenma? what's always stopping you, from saying yes to me?"

"kuroo."

"that's me."

_"kuroo,"_ kenma's tears are slipping down even faster and kuroo just keeps on pushing and pushing and _pushing_ because he knows he's going to lose this chance, this _moment_ , the second he stops, the second he lets go, the second me moves away but kenma is _crying_ and kuroo can't stop it. 

"kenma. it's so easy to say yes. why won't you indulge me?"

kuroo smiles but he can feel that it's sad, can feel that it's making the corners of his eyes crinkle and he feels a constricting kind of squeeze in his chest that makes him want to throw up, he can't really process what's in front of him right now but all he knows is that there's _kenma_ , no one else but kenma. 

"please, kuroo. stop. i can't. i _can't_."

kuroo laughs. 

it's crackly and ragged and it sounds so ugly. 

he lets kenma go. 

"bye, kenma."

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry."

"don't apologize. i just fell in love with the wrong person, i guess." kuroo shuts his eyes and tries to focus on _not_ listening to the sound of kenma throwing on his clothes and a hurry. 

"i'm sorry."

"i love you."

when kuroo opens his eyes, kenma is gone and the room still smells like fucking smoke. 

-

-

"you're so selfish, kenma."

kuroo's hands are burning up in his pockets, dying to reach out and touch kenma. anywhere. maybe dust his fingers across his eyelides. or run them through his hair. it's a new look. he's let it grown out all black, and it's cropped a bit shorter than the tie-able state it was in the last time kuroo saw him.

"i know. i'm sorry."

"so. what brings you here? or me here. whatever," kuroo laughs, but his chest pulls tight. he blames the winter air the snips at his breath like a sharp knife. "five years with no call."

"i left my dad," kenma gives kuroo a slight smile. "i know it's not justification for me asking to see you. but i'm glad you came. i wanted to tell you in person. i'm done with that life. i'm free."

kuroo nods. "that's really good to hear, kenma. i'm glad you're okay now."

kenma tugs at the end of his hair, which is such a familiar action, kuroo's seen it a million times before but it's strange because he kind of wants to cry when he sees the way kenma twirls the stray pieces through his finger. "i guess i also had another question."

"oh?"

kenma's eyes flicker up to meet kuroo's. the park seems like the wrong place to be talking to him. there's snow everywhere (but no people) and the air is so cold that his eyes blur with temperature-induced tears.

"is your offer still available?"

"what offer?"

"the one where i can be yours."

kuroo probably dies for a second. his hands are burning. 

it's so easy. 

they were stupid. 

they were young. and foolish. and kuroo was desperate for _something_ , and kenma just needed to escape and that was it. 

but the intensity of the happiness that kuroo feels right now tells him that it's not just something he got over as an adult. 

it's would be so simple, to reach out and hug him and kiss and then they could go back home together or somewhere, anywhere that kuroo can touch him freely. 

"i'm sorry. i'm with someone right now." 

that's a fucking _lie_. 

"huh - oh." kenma's hopeful face falls so quickly that it's almost cartoonish. 

"yeah. his name is tsukishima. we met as roomates last year."

tsukishima would kill him, most likely, if he knew that kuroo was using him to cover up the fact that kuroo was single as all fuck. 

"that's, um, good," kenma lets out, his smile shaking on his face. 

god. 

he's broken. 

kuroo bubbles up inside. 

kenma's broken. 

finally. 

"i'm sorry."

kenma shakes his head. "i just fell in love with the wrong person, i guess."

kuroo can't speak. 

kenma is broken. 

it would be his only wish to fix him, to glue him back together piece by piece by piece by piece. 

"i'm sorry, kenma."

"i love you," kenma's smile is so big, it's so bright and so perfect. "thank you. goodbye."

"goodbye, kuroo."

kuroo does not respond.

-

-

the ground beneath kuroo is wet, and he lets out a quick curse. his pants are new, for fuck's sake.

"god, kenma. you're so fucking mean," kuroo says. he sighs and drops his head back, face tilted up towards the open sky. "i should've brought a blanket."

the hill is empty of all people, which is expected - the countryside isn't exactly bustling with people during the spring, when all the students are stuck in school.

"kenma, look what i'm doing because of you," kuroo pulls out a cigarette and lights it rather slowly, watching with dull eyes as the flame dances back and forth when the wind pulls through the treetops. "it tastes so bitter. i hate it. fuck."

kuroo's too tired to hold himself up. the hill overlooks a wide wheat field, so the only thing he can see until the horizon are rows and rows and rows of golden stalks whistling against the air. the smell of fresh spring is annoying.

"it tastes so bad, kenma," kuroo puffs on the end of his cigarette and feels a tear slip out the corner of one eye. he'll blame it on the burn of smoke that exits his lungs. "can't believe you like this shit."

the air is so nice.

warm.

pretty.

kenma's pretty, too.

"kenma. i'm sorry. i should've said yes to you earlier. should've kept trying until you broke down and said yes to me first, back in high school. how much easier would that have been, kenma? you're name is so nice. and you should've gotten that back tattoo. big, fat, red camellias down your spine. that would be so pretty, kenma, you like those so much, i remember," kuroo chokes on a rough breath and more tears slip out, falling and falling and falling. "why aren't you answering me, kenma? c'mon."

kuroo digs through his hoodie pocket and pulls out the ashtray that kenma had left behind in kuroo's house. he places it besides him. 

"kenma. fuck. you were so pretty, kenma,"

the black marble gravestone glints so brightly under the sun, scattering shards of light all over the grass that kuroo lays on. 

"the tattoos would have been so pretty. so _pretty_ , i know it. your skin was so white. so white and pale and creamy, kenma. everything left a mark you. the flowers would be so pretty on you."

kuroo laughs. he places his finger along the etched lettering on the gravestone. it's so shallow and deep and simple and whatever the fuck else it is. 

"like camellias on the snow, kenma."

kuroo closes his eyes. he's a bit sleepy. maybe he'll take a nap. 

"you're so selfish, kenma. leaving me all alone like this. you said you loved me. you should have tried harder. you know how fucking stupid i am. i love you. fuck. i love you so much, i think i might be losing my mind. fuck. i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you."

kuroo tetsurou cannot be blamed. 

**Author's Note:**

> i would literally just be so fucking happy if even one person enjoyed this mess of me trying to write the angstiest thing in my LIFE also i know i difeinltey could have done better but i was kind of liking the vague writing style so idkKKKKKKK. anyways hq characters are more fun to write about than i thought but i like oneshots of them bc im lazY maybe ill write sum more who knows ?? but yeah. overall i think i like rwriting oneshots more so ill keep that in mind for the future. 
> 
> hope you guys are all staying safe and happy and just !!! ty for reading!!


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